Chowder: I just want to be able to express myself! If I still wanna be an Icelandic heavy metal groupie, or drink out of the toilet, or completely cover myself in peanut butter and roll around in my sheets, then I should be able to! I'm not gonna listen to yoooooou anymore!

Mung: That's it! Go to your room!

Chowder: No! I don't want to. Smells like peanut butter in there!

Mung Daal: If you don't march your butt to your room right now, then no third dinner for you!

Chowder: [Horrified] NO THIRD DINNER?! YOU MONSTER!! [Walks to his room]

Mung Daal: Sheesh! What's wrong with that boy? [To Truffles] I'm telling you he gets it from your side of the family.

Chowder: Oh, why was I cursed like this Mung? With such short legs? If only I had something to ride on. Something with two wheels. And with handlebars. And is red. And it's in the garage. Your Dice Cycle, I wanna ride your Dice Cycle.

Mung Daal: Yes, I know what you're referring to and the answer is "No"! You'll wreck it.

Chowder: No I won't! I swear on the soul of my poor dead cooking master!

Gazpacho: Mm-hmm. And what are we looking at? Mama, no! [ Gags ] [ vomits ] I'm all right. I'm not all right! [ Vomits violently ] That Ms. Endive, she's disgusting! And that picture of her is gross too. Bada bing, I've got a million of 'em!

Ms. Endive: [ Breathing heavily ]

Mung Daal: Well, hello, endive.

Ms. Endive: Give it to me!

Mung Daal: Unh-unh-unh-unh, i told you -- I'll let you have it when you allow us into your pool.

Ms. Endive: I will never allow grubby cretins like you to frolic in my pool! Never!